Foot spring light, the ink is speechless, the pen treads clear thoughts, look at the vast sea of clouds, the return geese empty the line
The wind has passed nine thousand miles, swept away the delicate heart of the beauty, leaving only the pink ground comforting the setting sun
The original intention is still the same, the colorful purples and reds are alone, and the prosperity of the world is only a corner. Waiting for you, looking for you, beside the fragrance of flowers dyed a pond of spring water, the fragrance is sunny in the sky, the meeting is like a painting, the deep love is long, the rouge color between the eyebrows, the soft intestines, the heart is touched, pity the yellow The poem is dancing among the flowers, and there is a faint fragrance on the street. There is a touch of unfinished thoughts. Half a cup of begonia is brewed with a little drunk, every word is slightly drunk, and the pen is desolate
The drizzle is heavy, and the coldness of the idleness is so sad Dead branches. Fallen flowers and flowing water, shallow ink expresses lovesickness, the past is like smoke, unforgettable, unforgettable
The moon fills Chang'an Road, the night is not yet at night, listen to the wind, and one person is surging. The beauty is red and the makeup is made of, who will be sad under the moon? A dream, I caress a song of birds singing and a fragrance of flowers
write a line of poetry, I would rather be hurt for you, even if the smoke and clouds don’t dissipate, my heart will no longer be confused.
One person, waiting for one person: One person, thinking of one person: One person, thinking of one person, only saying that lovesickness is warm, not telling the coldness of parting, not staying together but never forgetting, luck, unfortunate, unfortunate, and lucky
